


The Brave Alpha

by cannibalisticshadows



Series: The Alpha [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Past Child Abuse, Sort Of, The Good Alpha Sequal, Unplanned Pregnancy, Woobie Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, decide for yourself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 11:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cannibalisticshadows/pseuds/cannibalisticshadows
Summary: "You cannot be a hero without being a coward."- George Bernard Shaw





	1. Part I

Gold was despicable. A leech. A rat. A greedy goat of a man who couldn’t think with the right head. 

And he listed all the other horrid things he rightfully was as he laid down beside this beautiful omega he didn’t deserve. She was the epiphany of perfection—a dream that didn’t belong to him. And yet here he was, a selfish, ugly old bastard, knotted to her like it was alright. But nothing was alright about this.

It was hard to ignore her, with her estrus so strong and so, so alluring, and to keep himself away as she begged for him. After all, it was his cock and knot she wanted. Not him. Oh no. No one could want him.

Gold glanced at the clock again, over Belle’s sleeping head. She was curled up against him, one leg thrown over his hips with her nose snug against his neck. One of her hands fisted in the pillow of her blue-sheeted bed. They had, miraculously, managed to make it to her room for round three. And it smelled so much like her…

He had been knotted to Belle for at least thirty minutes. Already, he could feel the swell beginning to die down, but Belle’s body was so lax he could probably go ahead and pull out. Yet waking her up would be rude. Yet it had been rude to fuck her twice, even thrice, and with her in heat, Belle couldn’t possibly be thinking right. Who in their right mind would want him as a mate? After four years of marriage to Millah (the headstrong alpha she had been) she could barely look at him. Fuck, Gold hadn’t even been in the right mind when he burst in Belle’s flat uninvited. Unwanted. And look were it got them—Belle would hate him once morning came. He should feel lucky he managed to fuck her into a sex-induced coma before she could realize what awful mistake her estrus had convinced her to do.

Their first coupling—a wretched affair on the _carpet_ of all places!— had ended with the blood of her virginity staining his skin and the floor. Horrified from his lack of taking better care of her, Gold had made a weak attempt to coddle her after her first time. Belle was an angel, though, and fretted over him as badly as he had over her. 

She was sore, then. Sore enough that she wanted to rest with him on the couch and watch TV and eat ice cream in little ceramic bowls with purple plastic spoons. His broke, at some point during _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ , so Belle decided they should just share one. _“After all, we’ll be spending most of our time together, right?”_

That statement broke his heart. Belle deserved so much more than him and his baggage.

Gold groaned as his knot finally settled. Immediately, a heavy, creamy, hot gush of fluids spilled out of Belle’s instinctively clenching cunt. He huffed aloud as his flaccid member flopped out, ugly and wrinkled now. With a disapproving shake of his head, Gold, with all the care in the world, gently rolled Belle onto her back. She moaned as he pulled away. For a second he swore she said his name, but she was asleep. If she was dreaming about him, it had to be all the ways she would chastise him come 

Another groan broke through his lips as he struggled to sit up. Both of them were a mess, and the evidence stained and streaked his thighs and his limp cock. Belle was off worse, though. Poor lass; it would be rude to leave her in a puddle of his seed.

Quiet as a mouse, Gold shuffled to the backroom in all his naked glory to retrieve a damp washcloth. With it, he cleaned Belle up as softly as humanly possible.

Not once did she stir. Again, he pitied her post-heat state. She would be out for a while, most likely. Naturally he wanted to stay with her, snuggling close until she woke up. Then again he doubted she wanted him around once she realized she was chained to him until one of them _died_.

Gold had heard his share of tales of abused omegas; Emma, his daughter-in-law, had shared enough horror stories to put even more distaste for the world and his fellow alphas in him. God, he hated being an alpha. His father had the right idea by disciplining him into obedience.

He shook his head as he slowly limped into the living room. There, he picked up his boxers and trousers to dress himself some-what presentably. He hadn’t been lying when he told Belle the others had scented her. Even if she wanted him far gone when she wasn’t in heat, he would protect her from the others. He swore to do that, at least.

To be perfectly honest he didn’t want an omega to begin with. He was perfectly happy to be in his big house, alone, as the lone king of his own dominion. Marriage wasn’t for him, marking another sounded too primal, and he’d already had an offspring he loved and adored above all others. 

But it was Bae, his dear boy, who’d persuaded him into his mess…

#### (FIVE YEARS AGO)

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw, c’mon, Pops. It’s super private. Even if nothing does it for you no harm will be done!” Baelfire insisted, gesturing toward the laptop. 

“It is somewhat safe,” Emma admitted, grumbling into her mug of beer.

“ _Somewhat,_ ” Gold echoed, slapping a file of paperwork onto the table to complete. “Sounds perfect.”

Baelfire shot his wife a look. Like a rolling ball of snow down a hill, the couple began to bicker as they argued over the pros and cons of OPaS (Omegas Protected and Secured), aka the System. Gold shook his head over the thought of it. Never had he had a strong desire to have an omega. His past dalliances, after all, had been with betas, and, more commonly, with other alphas. Milah and he had met in high school, young and foolish and ready to take on a world they didn’t own, married too quick and too impulsively. The fierce passion between them died down as quickly as it came.

His wee family were still fighting. Sighing, he flipping his hair back and shouted, “Alright!”

Emma wrinkled her nose. “Geez, Roar, OK,” the beta woman rolled her eyes, plopping down on the couch. “I don’t like or trust any place that holds omegas. Sure, they protect them, most of the time, but I really hate their methods. But it’s not… all bad, ya know? You’re a bastard, but, ya know, also a decent guy.”

“I’m blushing from your praise,” Gold deadpanned.

Waving his head in dismissal, Bae walked over to clap his father’s back. “You’re lonely, Pops. We can see it.”

“I am not.”

“Are to,” Emma shot back before slamming her empty mug on the coffee table. “Omegas are made for alphas. And vice versa. Just try it, OK? I’m getting tired of hearing your son complain about you like some old mother hen.”

“I do not!” Bae cried out, his voice raising an octave.

Before they could jump into another petty fight, Gold sighed and relented. “Fine. But I’m not promising on getting one… God, it sounds like I’m buying a dog!”

“Well, the scientifically term for the female omega _is_ bit—“

The alpha shot daggers. “Don’t even go there.”

#### (A YEAR LATER)

“Merry Christmas!” 

“Happy Hanukkah!”

“….Um, Joyful Kwanzaa?”

Gold snorted at their antics. In his arms was a bubbling baby Neal Rory Gold, just months old, who was already trying to pull his grandfather’s hair out by the roots. Wincing, yet already deeply in love with his newborn grandson, he handed the baby back to its mother.

Around the dinner table was his wee family: his son, daughter-in-law, and now his grandson. 

Baelfire came shuffling back into the room after fetching the mail from outside, stomping snow from his boots. He pulled his scarf from his reddened face and beamed at his father. “Pops! You got another sampler.”

“Oh boy,” Gold groused, not bothering to contain his lack of excitement. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

“Don’t be like that, Gold,” lectured Emma as she bounced her baby son in his lap. “He’s trying.”

“And I’ve told you both, I don’t need a “mate”. It’s so… animalistic.”

“And completely normal,” Bae told him as he dropped the thick manila sleeve on the table. “Come on, Pops, sniff it.”

“What am I, a dog?”

Emma snorted.

Bae glared.

“Fine,” Gold relented with a tired groan.

Ever since he signed up for OPaS for “samplers”, as the System put it in a most helpful pamphlet, once every other month he was sent a package of tightly sealed envelopes of plastic, each a separate cloth of an omega’s scent. Apparently one was suppose to “call to him”. Whatever that meant. And so far all of the scents he got smelled like cheap perfume and sugar. He wasn’t too fond of sugar. 

“Open it!” The couple chanted as Bae took his seat to his wife’s side. The pair was amusing in their optimism, but Gold had accepted long ago that he was meant to be alone. Huffing, he cut the package open and pulled out five little plastic containers holding white cloths. 

He opened one after the other, each ending with similar outcomes. When he finished “sniffing” the fourth, he gave up and pushed the trash aside. “Are you two quite happy, now?”

“You missed one,” Emma commented as she plucked the fifth packet. 

“It could be the one.”

Gold wanted to growl. Or sink his teeth in something that bled. “For Christ’s sake, leave it be! It’s pointless, and—“

“If you smell this last one, we’ll leave you alone.”

“I doubt that.”

“You’re right, but we’ll be quite for… until next year.”

“Which is right around the corner!”

“Just do it, Dad!”

“Fine!”

Angrily, Gold snatched the packet from Emma’s open hand and snapped it open. Glaring, he ripped the square cloth out and brought it to his nose—

“Pops?” Bae asked after a long, silent moment.

Gold didn’t respond.

“Pops, are you—“

“ _Shut up, Bae,_ ” Emma whispered.

And he did, but the couple stared in aw as the alpha sat frozen stiff, eyes closed in deep, deep thought as he continued to hold the cloth in his face. 

After a tense moment, Gold abruptly shot up and turned around. “I need to be alone for a moment,” he rasped, and sulkily limped to his office.

He had a lot of thinking to do. 

And call the System to let them know he found _the one_.

#### PRESENT

Gold sighed as he looked over to the hallway, which darkened as it led to Belle's room. The scent of sex still tinted the air. Hell, it didn't just tint the air, it stained it.

Their little ice cream break had been a long affair. Gold's prowess was no were near able to keep up with Belle's need (another excellent reason why he didn't deserve her), but she still became hot and bothered after a half hour from their first coupling. She'd ended up pressed against him, her tongue laving his neck, and whispering for him to sate her again. She had sounded, most shamefully, ebarassing, as if this was wrong. Upset, he'd gotten her to lay back as he ate her out like a man starved.

Mouth coated in her dripping juices, they went on to eating out of the carton--clearly ice cream was Belle's go-to food during a non-medicated estrus cycle. 

When the movie had ended, Belle saddled his lap and managed to coax another erect out of him. There, naked and panting, he eased her onto him taking the highest of precautions. Belle was still sore, but she burned for him. Briefly, in that moment, he felt truly needed. Knowing that this would end once she was over her heat, probably tomorrow, was the only thing that kept him from coming too quickly before knotting her.

Gold sniffed. With a glance toward Belle's home phone, he saw that someone had tried to call her earlier and left voicemail. The number to Dr. Whale's personal cell blinked on the ID line. 

Ignoring his guilt, he deleted it. She could hate him all she wanted to come morning, but one thing was for certain. Belle was his.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Belle's heat doesn't end how she or Gold planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes for this A/B/O verse!
> 
> The "Mate" term: refers to the chemical bond *via neck biting on the scent gland of an omega* between an Alpha and his Omega.
> 
> (TGA slang for this verse)
> 
> Bitch: a female omega
> 
> Moll: a female alpha
> 
> Subby: a male omega
> 
> Knotter: a male alpha
> 
>  
> 
> And in this universe, male omegas can't get pregnant. Female alphas don't have penises. But they can... impregnate another. The "mating ritual" between them is different than a male alpha x female omega, and I may or may not go into that in later chapters.

_“Look at you… Pathetic. You’re not human, laddie. Hate tae say, but yer a freak. That thing between yer legs is not natural. It’s ugly, but it’s yers. How’d ye get to bae meh son?”_

_“I—I—I didn’t mean to!”_

_“Ya. Keep saying that. Now, put yer hands on the stove. Ye need to lern yer place, mutt.”_

Gold jolted awake with a gasp.

His cell was ringing something fierce on the floor beside the couch, buzzing madly as the screen flashed with the ID name. Grumbling, the graying alpha reached down to snatch it off the carpet. 

To his surprise, though, a heavy weight was laying across hindering his flexibility. Gold glanced down, and nearly choked in shock.

Belle had migrated from her room to the couch, totting her big feather comforter with her. It only covered her bottom half though, as the rest of the blanket lay on the floor. Her pale, gentle face was pressed against his bare chest. Soft gusts of breath fanned on the hairs of his sternum. 

Gold brought up his right hand to brush the tangle that was her hair back from her face. Had she gotten cold in her room?

Belle’s face scrunched up as the sound of his cell began to rouse her as well. Panicking, not wanting this blessed, tender moment that probably wouldn’t come more than once a month to stop, Gold snatched up his phone as he mentally cursed whoever decided to bother him before the sun had even risen.

The mayor’s name flashed on the screen of his phone like an angry, unwanted beacon. He grimaced and declined the call, dropping it back onto the floor. If it was urgent Regina could call again.

“…Rory?” Came a tiny, sleep-raddled voice. His senses went on high alert as his attention focused on his little blue-eyed omega. Hell, was it even proper of him to think of her as his? It had to be too presumptuous. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he crooned as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“Who was that?” Belle asked as she hoisted herself up by her arm, rubbing one of her eyes with a weekly clenched fist. 

“No body important,” Gold soothingly says. “Rest, now.”

Yet the young woman shook her head. Propped up like this, Gold had a marvelous view of her malleable, slightly jiggling breasts. Belle hadn’t bothered getting into nightclothes in her move from her room to here. It took a lot of will power to keep his hands to himself. “You left me, earlier.”

Feeling a well-deserved flush of guilt, though he didn’t particularly know why, he mumbled, “Couldn’t sleep.”

Belle settled back against his chest, folding both hands under her chin to gaze at him sleepily. “H-Have you been mated before?”

“No.”

“You—“ she bit her lower lip. “You mentioned a son. Earlier.”

“Ah. Yes. My son. Bae. Baelfire. He’s grown, now. Married, with a child of his own.”

“Oh.” She tilted her head. “…Baelfire. What a curious name,” Belle yawns through her honest comment. Poor lass, he brooded over. She must be exhausted. _Lecherous bastard, you should have been more gentle!_

“It’s Gaelic. His, uh, mother and I… We liked the original.”

Belle’s sweet, plump, pink and oh-so kissable lips quirked up into a soft smile. She made to speak again, but was interrupted by another ring from his cell.

He swore and picked it up again. Belle let out a slight sound of unhappiness as he looked at the screen.

“What does the mayor want with you at four in the morning?”

Gold just grunted in response. 

Regina wouldn’t dare to call him twice in a row unless she actually needed him besides using him as a source to complain to. Usually those things entitled inquiring his opinion on legal matters or Storybrooke business. So he pressed the decline again, and wondered if she would try a third time. If she did, he wouldn’t hesitate to answer.

A third try at reaching him meant one thing and one thing only. An emergency.

He turned his gaze back to Belle and gave her a shaky smile. She smiled back, and—

His phone went off again. _Regina._

“Yes?” Gold answered the phone on the first ring.

“You were right,” the mayor said in a strained voice on the line. “He’s just started.”

“And where is he?” He scooted back until he could prop himself up. Belle, still clinging to his chest like a little koala, whined in protest at his shift in position. With a soothing hand down her soft back, Gold cooed to calm her ruffled feathers.

“In his room. Gold, I—“

“Take a deep breath, dearie. Panicking won’t help you, and it certainly won’t help him. You need to relax. Where are you?”

“In the hallway—“

“Move across the house or calm your self, Madam Mayor,” he instructed dryly. “He needs a calm environment without tension. He’s scared, I’m sure, but as his mother, an alpha, well, it would be easier for a bear to comfort a mouse.”

“He’s my son, Gold!”

Gold pinched the bridge of his nose. Sighing, he squirmed beneath Belle until she got the message he needed to get up. The wee lass picked up her comforter and wrapped it around her shoulders for a bit of modesty as Gold plucked his dress shirt off the floor. “I’m on my way,” he says frankly, and hangs up without another word. He turns his gaze back to the young woman he was to spend the rest of his or her living life with. “I have to—“

“It’s okay,” she said with a small smile. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but it sounds urgent.”

“Right. Yes. I—Do you want to come with me?”

Belle’s whole face brightened, but confusion dotted her blue eyes. “Can I?”

“Actually,” he says, licking his lips. Gold approaches her with his head down to express his lack of ill-will. “You may be more use in this than I.”

 

~.~.~.~

 

Omegas presented at the age of puberty. There would be no doubt once it happened, for the O-gene officially kicked in at the first estrus cycle a young omega experienced. It was a widely known fact, for immediate action is required once an omega presents. For males or females, there would be similar symptoms during the cycle.

Both genders would go into the pre-estrus state a day before the official cycle, once a month. The omega would experience cramps above the waist or the hips, headaches, and moodiness. Once their heat hit, the omega typically wants to stay home, or a place they feel most comfortable, until their cycle passes. From what Gold learned in school, omegas’ heat lasted two to three days if left untouched. If they were mated and/or had a lover, it only lasted one day. 

Females, if their heat passed without a successful impregnation, went about their business as normally. If they hadn’t been inseminated, they bleed heavily for three to four days. A male omega’s heat, however, lasted two days and ended without trouble if they did or did not managed to pregnant a female alpha.

But alphas are different.

The alpha transaction is a gradual transformation that starts fairly young in a child’s life. Gold can’t remember when the first signs came about. His alphaness was a thing he just dealt with day by day, without any particular appreciation for his biology or hierarchy. When it was no longer undeniable, the reaction of his father, and the people of his childhood village, would stay with him until he died.

The earliest memory he had of his more, possessive, nature, was around the age of ten.

He and his father had come in from the woodwork, hands full of splinters and muscles achy from a long day’s work. Malcolm Gold huffed and swore as he got dinner ready for the night—pot of pork and potatoes. Young Rory, happy to finally eat since his meager breakfast, wolfed his food down without a second thought.

His father finished eating before him—and, with a playful-ish attitude, made to reach for one of young Rory’s pieces of meat...

Malcolm made it a regular task of his to remind Rory who was in charge in the Gold house. After all, Rory was but a child. Yet the feeling of sudden, brutish possessiveness that came over him… He couldn’t help it. Rory _growled!_

It came out of nowhere, it seamed, in a deep, throaty, rippling purr of aggression. Malcolm, taken aback, nearly feel from the table in shock. He put himself together, though, and rightfully smacked the boy across the cheek.

The incident went ignored, and, for some time, forgotten

The second incident happened out of the house, by the edge of his village on the plains of the lush, green Highlands. Rory had been dragged along with a group of boys much taller than him. 

_“It wael bea great, Roar. All ye gonnae dae is jump in!”_

To join their “gang”, as wee Rory saw them, he had to jump into a puddle of mud left behind by yesterday’s rainstorm. Each one of the boys said they themselves had done it, and Rory was given no reason to not believe them. So, with the joyful expectation of belonging to a group of friends, he leapt into the mud belly first.

And the boys _laughed at him._

 _“Daed ye really think we was beaing real?”_ They laughed and laughed at him, and to his horror another boy had come over with a dead chicken, only to throw the feathers at him.

In a blinding fit of anger, Rory took one flying leap out of the mud pit and tackled the tallest boy to the ground. He flung his fists and bared his teeth in a loud growl. Snarling, the wee Scottish boy tore and bit and clawed until the other boys managed to kick him off like they would a rabid dog, hollering that he was crazy and crying for their moms.

Rory, with mud and blood and chicken feathers all over him, sat there wondering why, and _how_ he had felt so violent. Hell, he was completely numb before cognitive thought returned to him.

Malcolm didn’t say anything to him when Rory came back home besides, “ _Taeke yer shoes off, laddie. Dinnae track mud in mah hoose._ ”

The third and final straw that something was terrible, terrible wrong with him was on the night of his twelfth birthday. 

Rory was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep hadn’t come easily. His birthday was bearably at best, this year. Malcolm wasn’t much for throwing parties. Especially birthday parties. Rory’s mother died giving birth to him, after all.

Yet tonight something besides quiet, absent-father days was on his mind.

It was his… _penis_.

He knew he was becoming a man. The day school taught him that much, at least. The voice changing and the hair growth he accepted as normal, albeit strange and alien. He knew perfectly well that if he woke up with that sticky white goo on his thighs and the bed-sheets, there was nothing wrong with him.

Although no one ever told him his penis would _itch_ , besides the sudden growth. No one told him that two wrinkly, fleshy bumps would form on either side of the base of his growing manhood. It looked strange and unnatural, unlike any other manhood he’d seen (and he’d seen his share, having gone skinny dipping in the lake with the other village boys during the summer, or passing his father’s open bedroom door while Malcolm was dressing). Rory feared as if a second pair of balls was growing on the base of his cock!

So, in fear of being seriously ill or mutated, Rory kept this bit to himself and avoided being seen by his father.

But tonight he was alone, in the dark, in his closed room, and his penis was stiff.

He liked it best when it got to this state while he was alone—that way he could avoid the embarrassment that came when a pretty girl smiled at him without warning. Tonight was one of those nights, so Rory, barely a teenager, found himself touching himself. 

Wicked thoughts ran through his head every time he dared to do this. Sure, he knew what the boys talked about when girls or parents weren’t around, and this was one of them. Grunting, he stroked his twitching, ugly little cock as the feeling of sensual high increased and increased—

Rory sighed and flipped over in the bed until he was on his belly. He grabbed his pillow and pulled it vertical under his body until his aching member was pressed against the feather-filled item and his own soft skin. Finding this position much more satisfying, he rocked his hips back and forth in gentle thrusts. The feeling of release came quick. Rory sped up his pace, wincing, and lowered his upper torso down until he could wrap his arms around the pillow. His climax came in a sudden, hot gush, and the boy found himself biting down on the pillow to growl softly into the fabric.

When his heart calmed, Rory flipped over to lay on his back again. Yawning, he reached down to pulled the sheets back to clean up and—

Rory felt his whole body go numb as horrification washed over him. 

His penis, once hard and stiff and upright, was now—well, not as it should be. Instead of it being limp and wrinkly again, it was still hard. Yet unlike before, it wasn’t so tight that it tried to stick up, but it lay against his thigh and continued to throb as if needing to climax again. More so, the strange new growths he was worried over, was—bigger. The base of his penis was now swollen with those two glands big and full and red. Almost angry. 

Rory cried out and terror as every bad outcome of this ran through his mind. Something was so wrong with him, so, so wrong—

_“Laddie? What’cha squealing aboot—“_

The oldest Gold man at the time came waltzing in his son’s room with only light concern on his face, forgoing to knock or anything. There, on the bed, Rory sat up naked and pale and near tears as his strange cock was visible to all.

Malcolm stared at that thing between Rory’s legs, then at Rory himself, then at the thing. Then, adding to his skyrocketing fear, the man lunged out and grabbed Rory by the forearm. 

Malcolm ignored his son’s cries as he dragged the boy out of the house, naked as the day he was born, with that alien thing swaying and still hard. 

And everyone saw him. Saw Rory. Saw what a freak of nature he truly was. Naked, in public, like the laughing stock he was.

 _“What the fuck is this, Doc? What’s wrang wit Roar?”_ Malcolm screamed at the village doctor, having dragged the boy all the way down the street for all to see before barging in the house to the medicine man. _“There’s no suppose tae bae any ‘phas or ‘megas here!”_

Dr. Zoso just stared at the quaking, nude Rory with dead eyes. _“It’s not unusual for one to turn up in a bloodline of us normal folks. I suggest showin’ him some strong discipline. An alpha’s like a feral mutt, Gold. He needs to be taught right from wrong. Don’t let him get the upper hand, ever. It’s what he’ll always want. Before we know it, he’ll be nuisance of this good village, trying to put that thing of his in every girl he gets his hands on….”_

Gold grimaced at the memory. Feeling nauseating, he turned to the side to glance at Belle. His… omega. God, that would take a lot of getting use to!

“Why are we going to the mayor’s?” Belle finally asked him, fisting her hands in her lap. She’d dressed quickly into a pair of black wash jeans, and an oversized golden sweater that seemed to swallow her whole. Seated beside her in his Caddie, she looked so tiny. 

Like a child.

A child he corrupted. 

Gold shook the thought off and tried to smile reassuringly. “It’s Henry we’re going to.”

“Henry?” Concern rose in her voice. “What’s wrong with Henry?”

“He’s an omega, Belle. He’s just presented tonight.” He glanced at the car’s clock. “I mean, this morning.”

Her eyes lit up in surprise. But it vanished quickly, and she looked down back to her lap. Gold tried to keep his eyes on the road. “That’s why you wanted me to come?”

“I think,” he licked his lips, “you’ll have an easier time having the… talk with him, yes?”

Belle nodded solemnly. “I thought he smelled—familiar, before.”

“One omega to another,” he smiled ruefully.

She smiled back in a similar manner. “I suppose.”

They sat in silence for the rest of the way.

This probably wasn’t the way she pictured her estrus ending—it wasn’t how he imagined it either. Gold hit himself across the head in his mind as his thoughts went over her wellbeing. 

If his seed hadn’t taken to her womb—and in estrus, she was prime for insemination—Belle would bleed heavily, much more so than the average beta woman during her menstrual cycle. As was typical for the female omega.

But he couldn’t smell blood, for which he was grateful, but also… terrified. Belle had gone through great lengths (illegal lengths!) to hide her bio-hierarchy. How the hell was she ready to be a mother? A mother of his child? 

Gold gripped the wheel harder and sped up. Henry’s wellbeing clouded his mind for now; a blessed distraction. Yet he knew he had to man up and be there for Belle once all of the Mills business was through. If she wanted the child, then by gods he could cross hell and high waters to be the perfect father and mate—husband, if she’d have him, but he highly doubted it—she could ever want for the sake of their bairn.

If she didn’t… Gold gulped. Well, it wasn’t his place to say anything. Better yet to leave Belle to her own devises, and see what comes next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't understand for the life of me why ya'll are crazy for this verse, but, hey, I ain't complainin'
> 
> And if I didn't make it quite clear in this chapter, Gold came from a pure beta village in Scotland. So, he was like the only alpha growing up.


	3. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, I sure did finish this chapter quick! Hehe!

“Gold,” Regina barked as the couple stepped onto the porch. His baser side’s head shot up in alarm at stepping foot onto another alpha’s terf, but it wasn’t telling him to be afraid. This land was more his than hers, and both of them knew it. He was just wary because he wasn’t alone, and his company was very precious to him.

“Madam Mayor. I’m sure you’re well acquainted with Miss Bellerose.”

The mayor’s nose had already snuffed Belle out, though. Instantly, the female alpha’s eyes darkened as her gaze fell over the wee lass beside him. Gold’s upper lip raised in a mute, warning snarl. 

“Careful, dearie. She’s with me.”

“I heard about what happened yesterday at the Shop n’ Stop,” Regina commented, placing her body in the doorway to deny them both entry. “I never would have guessed Gold would get to you first. Or, well, even if he hadn’t, it wasn’t a fair fight for the competitor, was it?”

Belle’s body went stiff as a board beside him. “I beg your pardon, but that’s none of your business.” 

Gold, easily sliding into the sly, devious businessman, gave her a slight smirk and a helpless tip of his head. This caused the raven-haired woman to snort, and step aside to grand them entre.

He went in first, with Belle keeping close behind. Regina crossed her arms and nodded toward the stairway. “He’s in his room.” Her gaze fell to Belle’s form. “And I almost thought you just wanted to flaunt your new little trollop in my face. Smart. For once.”

Gold snorted and touched Belle’s waist to draw her toward him. “Come, sweetheart.”

Leaving Regina in the main entrance, Gold led Belle up the stairs to the second floor, where he guided her toward the boy’s room.

Even if Gold hadn’t spent a blissful, sex-filled afternoon with Belle in his arms and his knot in her hot, quivering cunt, Henry’s budding heat pheromones had little effect on him. He’d heard other knotters claim a subby’s scent was just as sweet as a bitch’s, but he wasn’t among that group of alphas. Rather, he found it too salty, like the smell of salt on chocolate. Chocolate that was too dark to enjoy.

Gold and Belle shared a look of concern before he raised a open fist to his door. He knocked gently. Before he could speak, Henry sobbed out, “Go away!”

“Henry,” Gold began, forcing himself to lower his pheromones until they were barely detectable. To make it clear he was no threat. As an omega, officially, Henry would be swamped with all the sensations and smells that came with his first heat. “It’s me, and Miss Bellerose. Lacey. The librarian, remember?”

“No!”

Belle shifted beside him and placed a small hand over his, which held his cane. “Henry, would you like to know something?”

“No. Go away!”

“I’m an omega like you, sweetie. I’d like to come in and talk, if that’s okay.”

“No! You—you smell—like my mom! That’s—“ they heard him cry out, frustrated and confused and scared. Gold shifted uncomfortable beside Belle, but something inside him said she was very much in empathy with the young boy. His heart dropped into his stomach, as if mirroring her emotional pain. As if prompted to by a spirit from beyond, Gold’s hand moved to Belle, where, near psychically, she grasped his hand in a tight grip. 

_This mating thing is getting very odd,_ he mused darkly. 

“What you’re smelling is an alpha. Your mother’s an alpha. Gold’s an alpha. You know that, right?” Belle said aloud.

Henry refused to respond. Watching her take a risk, she tried the handle. Gold nodded and patted her shoulder. Leaning against her, he whispered, “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll be right outside.”

She gave him a watery smile and turned the handle of Henry’s door. He politely looked away, but got the strong, budding scent of his new omega-ness. Belle slipped inside his room and quickly shut the door. Gold hovered nearby, just in case.

It wasn’t five seconds later of tense silence until she called out and said, “Rory? Can you bring me a damp washcloth and a bowl of cool water? Maybe something sweet to drink, too.”

“Consider it done,” he breathed, and hightailed it down the stairs to follow her request.

Regina, having lurked in the kitchen while still in ear-shot with her sharp hearing, was already getting him the things Belle had asked for. Together, without a word, they fetched a plastic basin filled with chilled water from the tap, and a soft cotton cloth. She handed him a soda can. 

Since she was, for obvious reasons (Henry was adopted), banned from going upstairs, Regina handed him the bowl in one arm, and he carried, with all the pride he could hold while doing it, the can in his mouth as he used his free hand to use his cane.

Belle thanked him softly at the door, kissed his cheek, and gathered the things from his arms with the quickness of a war nurse. The door shut again. Gold, not wanting to eavesdrop on their private talk, left once he heard Belle began to speak softly to Henry again.

“It was right of you to call,” Gold commented as he and Regina stepped outside into her garden, where they sat beneath her favored apple tree on a bench. They sat there for what felt like a long, long time until he decided to break the vigil. 

Regina snorted. With trembling hands, she lucked a pack of cigarettes from her suit jacket, lighting it hastily. If it had been on any other occasion, he would have taunted her about the habit. So he held his tongue.

With a thoughtful expression, Gold looked up to the apple tree’s branches. Reaching up, he plucked one of the ripe, crimson fruits off. The tree rustled with it.

“You were right.”

Gold didn’t look up from his apple, but chose to toy with it in his hands. A few early birds were singing, with late crickets still chirping. 

“Fuck, I hate it when you’re right. Smug bastard!”

“Language, dearie. I never promised he’d be an omega.”

“But you put that thought in my head!” Regina snapped. Her aggression smelled like burned fruit, but he picked up on the sheriff’s sweat on her skin, the musk of her expensive perfume, and the guilty, chemical-prompted reaction her body had in response to a young, needy omega’s scent. If Henry had been her biological son, she would have no reaction, since he would be of her blood. But Henry wasn’t related to her, as Gold knew so well. 

He remembered finding the babe, perfect and small and with just the right scent that seemed compatible with Regina’s twelve years ago. But within recent years, his keen nose detected something besides compatibility. He had, briefly, wondered if he would be an omega. Having such an idea, he hinted it to Regina. She hadn’t reacted well, swearing up and down he would be a beta. _Normal._

Oh well. And here they were.

Gold tilted his head as he tossed the apple back and forth between his hands. “There are suppressants.”

“I’m sure your new _omega_ knows all about that. Shit, Gold, even you would have picked up on that. And not once did you think to tell me until the bitch went into heat?”

He smirked ruefully. “To be honest, I wanted to see how long she would last.”

The woman glared at him as she took a trembling drag of her cigarette. “Defiant as always,” she sneered, breathing out a gray-blue trail of smoke. 

Smirking sardonically, he took a bite out of the apple. “To the last straw.”

“You know, I’ll never understand why you and my mother fucked around. I can barely stand seeing your face.”

“Now, is that anyway to talk to me? I was almost your step-father.”

She whipped her head around to pin her gaze on him. “Fuck you, Gold!”

Before anything else could happen, the window to Henry’s window was pulled up. Belle stuck her upper torso out and waved down to them. The faint smell of Henry’s fresh pheromones wafted out, making Gold wrinkle his nose helplessly. Regina’s shoulders tensed. 

“Rory, can you come up for a second?”

“Of course.”

Tossing the bitten apple to the grass, he stood up with the help of his cane. Nodding to Regina he limped back into the house. There, Belle met him at the bottom steps. 

“He’s a bit shaken still, but I think I explained all I could to him.”

“And that’s all you can do,” he reassured her, reaching up to clutch her forearm soothingly. 

“I think it will be best if you talk to him, too. Man-to-man.”

Gold licked his lips, thinking seriously. “I can. I’ve had—that talk, with Bae, but—my son’s beta.”

“I’ve taken care of the omega thing,” she explained, stepping aside. “But you need to speak with him as well.”

And so, awkwardly, Gold mounted the stairs by himself to the boy’s room.

He knocked on the door, quietly. He heard—and smelled—the boy move around, and the creak of his bed. Blankets were shaken. “Come in.”

Henry’s room was blue and studious, with books and smart looking toys about. His desk was littered with drawings he had taken home from school, others from his free time here. Paint, a few days dry, clung to sandy papers and pensile shavings were scattered on the wood of his desk.

Henry sat on his bed with his legs crossed, a blanket thrown over his legs, and the soda can squeezed between his white knuckles. He was pale. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and stained his loose t-shirt which clung to his thin chest. Heaving, he said, “You’re an alpha. Like my mom.”

“Yes,” he said softly, taking his seat at the boy’s art desk. 

“When, uh, when did you—change? Into an alpha?”

Gold pressed his lips together, hands fiddling with the handle of his cane. “The onset of presenting doesn’t happen as suddenly for an alpha as it does an omega, lad.”

“Oh,” he said gloomily before taking a tip of his cool, sugary drink. “Lacey said that my body wants to be dominated by an alpha. Why? She said it’s in our DNA.”

“Just because your internal chemistry says something, doesn’t mean you have to live by it. If you wish to be with a beta when you grow up, then there’s nothing stopping you.”

“Lacey said that there are places that keep omegas safe.”

“There are,” he nodded carefully. “But you are protected here. You won’t be required to go.”

Thoughtfully, the boy nods and turns his attention to Gold’s hands. “Lacey said that you two were mates now. What—what do I—“ With eyes filled with frustration and confusion, he glanced to his blanketed lap. “It hurts, here.”

“Ah.” So, this was his objective. Well then. “Well, Henry, you’ve had an erection before, yes?”

“When it gets hard? And pokes up?”

Gold nods.

“But what do I do with it?”

_Oh fuck, even Bae knew about masturbation before I gave him that talk!_

Gold swallows tensely. Mutely, he rises to excuse himself for a moment. He shuffles down the hall until he finds Regina’s bathroom and snags a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues. With as much matter-of-fact-ness he can muster, Gold returns to Henry’s room and shuts the door behind him.

“I'm sure you know what lotion is,” he explained, placing it on the bedside table. Showing him the tissue box, he adds, “But this is used to clean up after."

“Why?”

“Henry,” Gold does about the topic gently. “When you touch your penis you’ll notice it feels nice. It’s normal. Do you ever wake up with a sticky white substance in your bed after a particularly sweaty night?”

He tilted his head. “No... It gets hard in the morning, sometimes. Or when I really need to pee. But it goes away after awhile.”

_Jesus, this lad! What kid doesn't try to jerk off before they're a teenager? Has his mother taught him nothing!? Have they taken sex-ed out of school?_

“If you do, and you will, know that it doesn’t mean your sick or something is wrong. It’s normal.”

“Do you do it?” 

Gold felt his face flush. For the boy’s sake, though, he kept his emotions contained. “It doesn’t happen, or happens as often, as one gets older.”

“Oh.” Henry picks the lotion up. “Why this, though? Do I—do I put it on my—“

“Yes. It helps things go… smoother. There’s no right or wrong to masturbation, especially when one carries the A or O gene, Henry. Just find what you like best, in these matters.”

He nods, face set seriously. “And I use tissues to clean up after I… what?”

“It’s called ejaculation. It will happen once you experience something called an orgasm. You will produce a whitish, sticky fluid called semen. It’s also called seed, come, jizz. The internet may provide you with more information. But this fluid can gush, or squirt in streams. It can get messy.” _Not quite as messy as a male alpha’s mess, but still._ “As an omega, and I’m sure Belle—I mean, Lacey—as told you, one orgasm will not be enough for you in estrus… How much as Lacey told you?”

“How to care for myself in estrus. Like, being comfy, and—I’ll want to do all _that_. With another person.”

Gold just nods.

“Mr. Gold, does it feel good when you do it with Lacey?”

He nearly chokes on his own spit at the boy's innocent question. But, honestly was best here. “Yes. Yes it does.”

“Do you two do it once a month, or—“

“Henry,” he began, cutting him off. Gold hadn’t known why, though. He and Belle had a lot to handle once they left here. Like she said, they barely knew each other. “We haven’t been together long, so…”

“Oh.” But Gold could tell Henry still didn’t really understand. Sighing, he rose and offered to sit next to him. He eyed him warily, not unlike Belle had when he broke into her apartment, but he didn’t deny him. Taking his permission, Gold took a seat closer to him on the foot of his bed.

“When you find an attractive girl, or, uh, or a guy, you’ll find that touching each other will feel very nice. It will excite you.”

“It sounds funny, but okay.”

He smiled helplessly. “With a girl, you’ll want to put your penis in her vagina. This is how babies are made. Did your mother teach you?”

Henry looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Ew! Why would I want to put my—“ he glanced at his lap, “in her—!“

Oh, this poor, poor boy… Gold sighed. Henry was terribly naïve, but he couldn’t blame Regina from keeping him so sheltered. For Baelfire, though, by the time Gold saw it fit to sit him down to teach him about the birds and the bees, the boy surprised him by admitting to already knowing. Apparently Bae’s friends learned earlier than him, and decided to spread the word.

But this was Henry’s first heat. He had to know. But it felt like he was painting a white wall with lamb’s blood as he told his boy about the ways of the world when clearly, he barely had registered that his peepee was a whole lot different than a teetee. Was he gay, then? It wasn’t uncommon for omega males to be homosexual. But it was much to early to tell, or for even Henry to decide that for himself.

“If you’re with a guy,” he explained with caution, “you may want him to put _his_ penis… um, where ever you want it to go.”

“Gross!”

He shrugged. “To each is his own, son. You’ll understand once you get older, I’m sure. But Lacey can help you with your omega side, alright?”

“Can I ask you stuff too?”

_For a boy without a father figure, how could he say no?_

“Of course.” 

He smiled brightly. Unexpectedly, though, he pulled up and scooted closer as he threw his arms around his neck. “Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“Anytime, lad.”

He pulled away, smiling still. “So, am I going back to school soon? I didn’t go this morning cuz my head hurt. And I hate it when I miss English.”

~.~.~.~

 

“Did your talk go well?” Belle asked him as they got into his car. The engine roared to life as he turned the key, letting the car get enough power so he could heat it. 

“As well as it could of.”

“Hm. Do you think it’s alright for him to be with Regina? I mean—I could tell, today, that he wasn’t her biological son…”

“She would never lay a hand on him,” he said firmly. “As much as Regina and I butt heads, I know she would die for him within a heartbeat. As far as safety goes, he’s in the safest place Storybrooke has to offer.”

This seemed to bring Belle peace. 

They pulled out of the mayor’s driveway and continued down the road to her library, where he would drop her off and let her rest. After all, she was still “sick”. Yet, sure enough, word about her true nature would spread. The mayor already knew.

He parked outside of the building. Turning to her with a hopeful smile, he teases, “Ms. Bellerose. You have arrived to your destination.”

She rolled her eyes, but giggles and pats his hand. “My last name is actually French.”

“ _Ah, est-ce que tu parles français?”_

_“Oui, mais mon nom de famille est littéralement ‘French’!”_

“Hmm. Belle French.” He dared to reach out and brush back a tress of her lovely russet hair. “It suits you.” 

This caused her to blush a delightful shade of red. “Thank you. Um, Rory, I was wondering if—“ 

_To leave you alone? To only speak to you during your estrus? That you’d rather be helpless and horny for three days than to let me touch you?_

“—you’d like to shop for pregnancy testers, with me. Tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” She blushed harder, and bit her lip in a way that shot bolts of electricity to his groin. “I feel that I’m not longer in heat. But, when that happens, I bleed…” 

He caught her drift. “And you’re not bleeding now.” 

She nodded, avoiding eye contact. The fear and anxiety she was expressing made Gold’s previous lusty thoughts vanish like a wind. Taking a risk, he reached out to take her hand. 

Instead of lashing out, like he expected, she squeezed his hand back. “Rory, I don’t even know if I’m ready for a baby." 

“It’s your decision, Belle. I have no right to have a say in this.” 

She eyed him, then. “As the father you have just as much say in it as I do. I can’t do it alone!” 

“I never said I’d not support you,” he breathed, stroking the skin of her hand with his thumb. “I’ll be here every step of the way. But if you don’t want it, I won’t try to stop—“ 

“What?” Her pheromones flared out with a fresh loud of anxiety. And anger. 

Gold understood, and let his other hand come to pat hers, which was beginning to squeeze his almost painfully. Her nails were digging into his flesh. “I can provide as much money as you need and more. I can make sure the abortion goes completely anonymous, Belle. I won’t have you suffer any shame—“ 

_“What!?”_

Belle, suddenly, wrenched away from him with a horrified expression. “What do you mean, an abortion!?” 

“I—“ 

“I am not killing my baby! _Our_ baby!” 

“B—“ 

“Oh my god,” she gaped at him, staring as if he’d just pushed her family off a cliff. “You want the abortion. Oh my god.” 

“No! No! I never said that!” 

“Yes, just did! You just did!” 

“Belle, damn it, no! I was only offering—“ 

“To kill it for free? Well, gee, thanks, mate!” 

“I want the baby, Belle! Really! But you don’t know...“ 

“What? What don’t I know?” 

“You don't know what you want! You were in _heat_. You’ve only just gotten over it, and—“ 

Gold was fucking it up. He was fucking everything up. Belle’s eyes, once blue and full of kindness, were now watery and full of hate. She hated him. Fuck, she hated him. The trembling lass scratched the door handle furiously before leaping out. She spun around and bent down to glare at him “You listen here, Rory Gold. I know my own mind, not you. Nobody decides my fate but me. _I_ wanted you to mate me. _Me. I_ wanted it. Not my heat. Not my biological make up. Not the System. _I_ wanted you, got it? And I sure as hell want this baby.” 

He could say nothing, besides hang his head in submissiveness. She was emotional, still. But he knew she would lash at him sooner than later, and here it was. Soon she would hate him, as his other lovers had. Only problem was that he and Belle were bound for their entire living lives together. They were stuck together. Belle was just another unhappy omega trapped in a bond she didn't want. 

“Pick me up at ten. We’re still going shopping.” And with that, she slammed his car door and stormed off into her library, where she shot him one last tearful glare before disappearing inside. 

_Well, then,_ Gold brooded. _I really am no better than a mangy mutt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Belle takes the first steps to find out if she's pregnant or not, and an unwelcome face shows up in town.


	4. Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The estrus cycle is a female omega's prime time to get pregnant. It's when they're most fertile. Due to that, omegas can have health problems that beta or alpha woman won't experience.
> 
> As mentioned before, if an omega gets pregnant after estrus, she won't bleed, unlike omegas who don't get pregnant after estrus. However, sometimes an omega can get a late period after mating during estrus because of health problems that don't equal pregnancy. The female omega body might be "fooled" that because it was knotted, it conceived when in reality they didn't. Another reason could be blood clots or some other issue--the female omega's vagina _is_ a bit different than a female beta's (you know, to hold a knot). 
> 
> Because Belle isn't bleeding yet might not entirely mean she is pregnant--this is the unspoken question between her and Gold. She and Gold tied the knot (pun intended) very recently, so the matter is still rather delicate right now.

She was pretty young thing.

The first time Gold saw her was on his way to work early one morning. He strutted down the sidewalk with purpose, but was cool enough to pass by without notice. But of course, everyone noticed him. The townspeople kept their respectable distance from him, as always, but one individual stuck out like a sore thumb. 

She was dressed in a bright yellow dress, with the shoulders cut despite the chilly air and pair of black pumps what clipped down the sidewalk almost comically. Long ruddy brown tresses flowed behind the woman, bouncing with each cheerful step, seeming to flash red in the sunlight. Creamy pale skin stood out to Gold’s watchful eyes. Clearly she was not from here, but he, and apparently a good deal of others around, saw her beauty.

He did like beautiful things.

Naturally, he was curious and wondered where on earth such a woman would be headed in a town like Storybrooke; she was holding a binder, and carried a modest sized shoulder-purse decorated with roses. 

Gold pivoted on a heel and changed direction. He crossed the street and sped up his pace until he was a few yards behind her, when, suddenly, the wind changed.

Her scent was very distinctive. No perfume tainted her being, he noted, but a sweet smelling soup that made it hard to ignore. Entranced, he came closer until he could get a better sniff—and perhaps a proper meeting. Storybrooke was his property, after all.

Yet someone beat him to it. Like a snake slithering out of a hole in the ground, Wolfred Moore, one of the mechanics, stepped out from seemingly nowhere to stand in his target’s way.

Gold, narrowing his eyes, stepped aside to keep the minimal traffic flowing—and to stay hidden.

“Hi,” Moore greeted the girl, smiling ear to ear as he secreted his scents. “You’re a new face. We don’t get many visitors to Storybrooke. I’m Wolfred, but my friends call me Wolf.”

The girl gave him a bright smile in return. “I’m Lacey Bellerose.”

Gold’s nose flared. 

He knew a lie when he heard one, and this girl had just said one. What reason would something as lovely as her have to lie about her name? More especially, why did she smell… stressed out? Yes, he smelled anxiety from her. But it was faint, more of a cautionary scent from a person who felt the need to be on guard. But that was normal, he supposed, since she was walking with a purpose and this lower alpha had halted her to chit-chat.

Gold decided to step in once the young man began to interrogate the girl on things obviously domestic or venereal. Taking pitty, he smoothly hobbled over until he was a few feet behind the newcomer, giving Moore a look of meaning.

The young man knew he was behind on rent. Once he saw Gold, he went a bit pale and dismissed “Lacey” before bolting.

She blinked in confusion, but Gold could smell the wash of relief over her. She then shrugged, and flipped her hair back over her shoulder.

And he could smell her most clearly.

Stunned a bit, Gold watched mutely as she walked off to finish her mission. 

She smelled like rose buds and spring air, of old books and warm milk and steeping tea. She smelled of something that he would like to claim as his.

She smelled like an omega.

Gold grinded his teeth and couldn’t help a wave of sudden possessiveness that ran through his veins. Instantly, some alpha across the street went straight as a bow and jogged away.

He shook his head as he watched her leave. It was impossible for him to be attracted so to two omegas—after all, the scent sample he still had at home was the painful reminder of what he could have had, but wasn’t good enough for. 

_Belle. They said her name was Belle._

Yet, there was this woman, smelling sweet and alluring, and all he could think about was brandishing his teeth to fight off challengers and claim her as his own.

And God, did it all sound, and feel, so primal! So animal! He shook his head again and spun away. He had to leave before he did something bad… 

But he knew, deep down, if the girl was staying here he would be unable to stay away. If this was not a trick, and he wasn’t hallusinating, then this omega-in-beta’s clothing was meant for him. 

He had to tread carefully.

 

~.~.~.~

(Present)

Pain was an everyday obstacle for Gold. 

He felt it when he woke up, during his morning ritual, during his walks, during meals, during tea, during work, during rent day, during bedtime. But tonight he forwent bed, and chose to brood in his office and destroy last every breakable object he owned into smithereens.

The last crystal tumbler he owned smashed against the wall into a billion sparkling pieces. Gold heaved and reached out to grab something else, his tie loose around his neck, jacket thrown sloppily on his desk, and his dress shirt poorly buttoned. Tugging on his tie, he picked up a paperweight and threw it against his door, too. 

His cat hissed something fierce as the object came inches from hitting it.

Gold was not, under any circumstances, a cat person. He liked dogs. They were predictable, loyal, and over all man’s best friend.

But he had a fucking cat. An ugly, ragged, scarred puss with three legs and half a face--the flawed parts of the animal looked as if it had been burned, but Gold had no way of knowing the blasted feline’s cause for such an injury. 

“Oh, shut up,” he snarled at it, dropping into his chair with a heavy sigh. His ankle was screaming in pain, and having his little temper tantrum was not helping. Gold felt all his pent up energy leave his body like his soul was being sucked out by a demon. Unavoidably, exhaustion replaced his retreating anger. 

Belle hated him. And why shouldn’t she? He’d gone and fucked things up in their little “friendship”, if that was even what it was. He’d fucked it up by fucking her. Damn, he was an idiot! An absolute fool!

The cat (he had no name for it), limped in, using its front leg to direct itself, and hobbling forward with a little hop using its intact back legs. It eyed him warily, and sat back as if to judge him.

“What?”

It yowled once.

“I can throw you out, fleabag,” he threatened, and reached up to grab a glass canteen of Johnny Walker. “It’s my house, and I’ll do what I damn well please!”

The cat stood up and hobbled forward, where it sniffed his extended leg--the bad one. It gave him one last look before turning its attention to his desk and leaping up. The three legged creature sat on a document file. From this position, its dirty and matted black fur glistened in the lamp light. 

“Why do I even feed you?”

The cat laid down, and flopped over onto its side to show its belly. Through squinting yellow eyes, it gave him a curious look.

Gold decided not to respond. Well, what was he responding to? He’d been alone for too long. A fucking cat for company. 

Sighing, he stood up and picked up his forgotten cane. Before he met Belle in, Gold looked at the clock, four hours, he needed to get a shower and fresh cloths. He still smelled like sex.

The cat let out another freakish deep yowl and hopped on that one front paw. Both of them limped to his room, heads down. 

~.~.~.~

 

Belle was standing outside of the library in a lovely blue dress, with a white coat and matching hat. She waved at him with a little smile, which he really didn’t deserve, but he pulled up beside her and tried to return it. She got in too quickly for him to get out and open the door for her.

“Hey,” she said in a small voice, tugging her gloves off. 

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry,” she began, “I uh, snapped at you, this morning. I was--”

He shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, Belle.”

She stiffened. “If you don’t want this baby just say so.”

Gold’s whole body jerked at the idea. “No! No, no, I want it.”

She bit her lip and nodded. It was a tense moment, and Gold wasn’t sure how to mend it. Then again he was getting more from this relationship than he could have hoped for. With a polite nod, he watched her buckle up before putting the car into drive.

It was painfully awkward and silent. Every time he glanced at her, Belle would be staring at him, but flipped her head to the side to avoid his gaze. She fiddled with her gloves, chewed her bottom lip, and did everything to not speak. Gold swallowed dryly and dripped the wheel harder.

When they got to the store, Gold got out right as Belle did. They shared a small smile and approached the other. “I had a hard time sleeping,” his mate admitted, slinking up beside him until her side touched his. 

Gold gave her a worried look, but kept his trap shut as they strolled into the store. 

“....I felt a bit violent.”

“I—Why?” He asked, uncertain.

“I didn’t have a reason to feel that way,” Belle said. “But I felt it anyway. What did you do once you left this morning?”

He sniffed. “I went home.”

Giving him a pointed look, she asks, “What did you do at home?”

_Destroyed my office._

“A little rearranging.”

Belle tipped her head down as they reached the Family Planning aisle. “I’ve read that mates can feel what the other’s feeling at times.”

He had nothing to comment with. Instead, he watched with a quiet gaze as she drew away from him, taking the warmth from between them, to look at the boxes of pregnancy testers. Tense with nerves, Gold studied the rest of the store’s meager offering of sex and reproduction related items. How many condoms did mankind need? 

Across the aisle, just passing by, was none other than one male alpha. The young man glanced down the aisle and spotted Belle, not him, and smirk most coyly. Feeling an involuntary sense of possessiveness, he let his own pheromones be secreted into the air—just a little bit.

As expected, the other alpha’s body went visibly tight. He all but ran away from the older alpha.

Gold grunted in victory.

But Belle, wee little Belle, straightened up from a kneeling position on the floor with an armful of boxes. “ _Rory!_ ” 

As if slapped, he stepped back from her with surrender. She looked quite like a picture, standing as tall as she could with a face that said she meant business. He could smell his own scent in the air, thick and heavy and prominent, but hers was a scent he could pick up in a room of pig shit. And she, by scent, was openly pissed with him. Barely a day as her mate, and he was already fucking things up even more. _I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Don’t be mad. I’m trying. Please forgive me._

“He was like, ten feet away! That wasn’t necessary.” 

“They need to know you’re spoken for.”

Belle shook her head. “I can speak for myself. And I’ll tell them I’m with you. Trying to mark me like that won’t solve everything.”

_Mark. Like a dog, huh?_

“Yes. Of course.” Timidly, he glanced at the contents she held. “Is this all you want?”

“Mh-hm. All I need.”

“Very well.” He nodded once and stepped back, letting her leave the aisle first. Belle, however, was persistent in having her way and pressed up against him with a pressure that, in all honestly, scared the piss out of him. He could practically hear her yelling at him once they went somewhere private.

“Can you come over to my place, after this?” She asked him quietly as they slowly walked toward the register. “I don’t want to do this alone.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“We need to talk, too. About us.”

“Yes.”

“And what will happen once everybody knows I’m an omega.” 

Gold was positive everyone did know, but he just nodded.

Belle was not ready to get into line, though, and stopped at the display of candies. It was right under a light overhead, drawing out her red highlights. Truly, Belle was beautiful. Smiling fondly, remembering there little ice cream moment, Gold let her do as she pleased. Perhaps, after this whole situation blows over, he could take her out somewhere. Somewhere nice. Would she even let him kiss her? Oh, how he hoped so. It burned in his chest, the need to keep her close and safe. Unshakeable and undeniable, Gold found himself mentally salivating at the prospect of having her again. They were family now, after all... God, this was getting ridiculous!

“You got to watch her diet intake,” said a rough, male voice behind him. “Or all that crap she likes to eat will go straight to the hips.”

Gold did not hold back the enraged snarl. Growling, he spun around to find a towering alpha of warrior proportions. The other alpha was broad where Gold was thin, with features any woman would swoon over. His scent was immediately disliked by Gold, clashing with his own dominant trait like fire against fire. 

“Would you like to repeat that?” Gold said through his teeth.

“Sure,” the other man said, bending down to be face-to-face with him. “I said she’ll get fat, and who the hell wants a fat omega when they can have her sweet ass?”

A lot of alphas tried to challenge Gold. He was use to it. Words never seemed to sway him, but this young man was offending something that Gold would kill over. Furious, he rolled his shoulders and straightened up. It would seem not everyone got the message yesterday morning.

But a loud, frightened gasp made him hesitate. Pulling away from the possible fight, Gold went to Belle with full intent to protect. 

She was pale, much to his dismay, and stared at the offending alpha as if he’d killed her parents. If that wasn’t enough, her hands trembled and her scent of distress nearly strangled him. 

“Belle,” he whispered, placing his hand on her elbow. He caught the boxes she was holding before they could fall, but she was still, clearly, terrified. “Belle, w—“

“ _Gary,_ ” she croaked out, grabbing onto Gold’s suit jacket. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d take a little vacation, babe,” he said, waltzing up to them with a cocky smirk. “A little birdie told me I’d like the view. And what do you know, here it is.”

 _“Back off,”_ Gold growled a warning as he struggled to contain his inner alpha, which was roaring against his mind’s walks.

“What are you gonna do, old man? Hit me with your stick?” Gary laughed. “Really, Bellez, I expected more from you.”

Belle only huffed. “He’s more than you’ll ever be!”

“C-Can you take this outside?” Squeaked the clerk. Poor man.

“Of course,” Gold barked, and handed him the boxes. “Have these shipped to my address.”

His order was taken care of quickly, leaving him to deal with the problem at hand without the testers to hold. Belle took advantage of his free arms by clinging to his left. 

With a face returning to its natural color, she demanded to Gary, “You need to leave here. I’m taken.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Got banged up by a guy old enough to be your father? Wrinkly old cunt.”

That was it for Gold.

Outside now, he didn’t hesitate to let his pheromones out to show his status. This “Gary” was so out of line, and he knew how much he was bothering Belle. _Bothering his mate._ But he was not stupid. Gold knew who this man was and why he was here—Belle spoke of him, during their moment of passion. This man was who stole her from the System.

_Stole her from me._

“I’ve told you once, dearie, I’m not going to tell you a third time,” he snarled, putting Belle behind him. “Back off, or I will make you wish you never came here.”

“Excuse me?” Gary seemed unaffected by him. “I’m just here to get my omega. Right, Bellez? Let’s go get that parasite out first,” he said, eyes lowering to Belle’s abdomen.

And that was the last straw.

Letting out an angry bolt of energy from his throat, sounding close to a bark, he turned his cane as a weapon and lunged the other alpha. He slammed the younger one against the wall of the store, scrunching up his nose and upper lips to show he meant business. “Say that again!” He yelled, shoes scrapping the concrete ground. 

_“Rory!”_

“Gladly!” Countered Gary, shoving Gold back with a rough push. “She’s mine! I had her first!”

_“Stop it! Stop fighting!”_

“Grah!” Gold, pivoting on his heels, spun until he was well out of the other’s way. The oaf lost his balance for a brief moment, giving Gold an opening to attack. Not hesitating, he used his cane to beat the man over the back.

Gary, yelping, fell gracelessly—but didn’t back down. Regaining his flooring, he rolling over until he could jump up, presenting himself for a fight. Then the pheromones were set loose.

Both of them were a growling, barking mess. If there was a crowd of standbys, they must have been betas only. 

The younger alpha tackled Gold to the floor, throwing punches and snapping teeth. Filled with what strength he kept hidden, Gold fought back with all he had, letting go of every aggressive trait he owned. And tripled it.

He wasn’t sure who started biting, but it happened. There was blood. Something snapped, loudly. There was yelling, and flashes of light, and pain, but Gold couldn’t see anything except the goal of defeating this challenger, protecting Belle, protecting his _mate_ ,—

 _BANG!,_ went a fired gun.

Instantly, both he and the younger alpha split apart. His eyes were alight with shock, but his heart beat wildly in his chest. Disheveled, Gold looked around with panic in his gaze.

Sheriff Graham, holding his gun, stood a few feet away with the most ticked-off expression Gold had ever seen the young man make. Heaving, the sheriff snapped, “Again! I said back down!”

Gold, feeling guilty, smoothed his clothes down to brush the dust off. How ridiculous. He was old and mature enough not to get in an alpha brawl. 

“Thank fuck,” Gary spat. “Someone to stop this nutcase! He attacked me!”

“Back off,” Graham demanded, sheathing his gun in one smooth move. “And do it now, before I arrest both of you.”

Gary blanched. “Me? I’m completely innocent, officer. I’m just here to get my _omega_.”

All eyes shifted to Belle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally MUCH longer, but due to the fact I like keeping my chapters between 2k-5k, I cut it in half.
> 
> There is smut in the last chapter of this fic.


End file.
